A New Life
by Gumo
Summary: Hermione Granger's life turns sour as everything she lived for until until now comes crashing down. But she begins to find there is something very... different about her.
1. The Beginning

**Chapter****one**

Fuck yeah, crack plots!

This story is half for my pleasure, but also to help me develop my writing skills and storytelling. What a fun way to do so!

* * *

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

Hermione gripped her spell casting arm tightly, hoping to alleviate the intense flames of pain that engulfed it. It could be worse, she could be dead-at least she thought that in the beginning of the pain. Or, well, she was supposed to be. She looked to her aggressor. The unmasked man in flowing black robes-a remaining death eater presumably, lay on the ground paralyzed and rigid. They had exchanged their spells hastily; Hermione was reluctant to do so but found it was do or die as her hexes proved to be of no use and her stamina draining rapidly.

The spell had been heavily laced with magic, and it him solidly on the chest. Within seconds, he was on the ground and unable to move at all.

Hermione was hit on her hand by his killing curse- it was a potent cast curse, a bright glowing green filled with dark intention. The curse was sudden death, but she found it to be less potent than expected to her joy. Using willpower and clenching her teeth, she tried her best to make the pain recede, however it only spread and grew almost exponentially. Soon enough she was not even able to clamp down her teeth, muscles like putty.

She fell to the ground, body shuddering heavily, face contorting in the unimaginable pain that was suddenly real. Muscles contracted and detracted rapidly, body shuddering as seizures rippled through.

"Fuck!" She managed to somehow squeak, as her whole body was enveloped with sheer pain. She kicked her legs, trying to find some sort of outlet for the excruciating pain, but found that she was not even able to wiggle her toes. The numbness crept up her arm slowly, despite her fighting. Hermione was fighting a losing battle. But she had a chance most witches and wizards never had when it came to Avada Kedavra- the chance to fight it back, and so her will remained ironclad as she endured the pain.

She could only think one thing- this was a hundred times worse than being crucio'd. She had been able to scream, when tortured. She was able to kick and scream and plead. But with this, there was no outlet. Hermione was barely able to speak, and every internal organ feeling as if it was dipped in a vat of boiling water. No, that was too pleasant. Her organs were being burned by hot coals, stabbed with dull and rusty and serrated blades, pulled apart and stretched and crushed. Her head felt as if it were repeatedly bashed against sharp and ragged rocks, and it burned horribly, impeding her thoughts. The nerves in her body starting shutting down, and Hermione began to no longer feel. It was not a relief, but a heavy concern. In fact, her whole back was numb, so she felt like she was floating, no longer on the ground. It was spreading all over her back which also explained why she could no longer move anything- the spell must have attacked her spine and either severed or put to sleep her nerves. Death, though not instant, would probably soon follow once it spread to her head.

Still grasping heavily onto her conscious, Hermione managed to think about how likely anyone would rescue would be, and her logic soon dashed her hopes. As the numbness crept upon her, she somehow managed a grin. It was not a happy grin.

No one would find her. No one knew where she was. Breaking the rules had lead to her untimely demise.

* * *

The bushy red tinted brunette walked merrily down the stone path that winded down the grounds of Hogwarts and lead to Hagrid's hut, dead set on retrieving her Advanced Potions textbook that she had left on the gentle man's table during a visit earlier today. No one else in the Gryffindor dorm took the class, and in total only ten students in the whole school took the rigorous class. Being the 'insufferable know-it-all', she HAD to have her book to study for the test coming up in a week.

"I'm a bloody idiot to forget something this important. It is not like I own an owl either, so I can not send it to Hagrid's hut. And Lavender and Parvati's owls are off god knows where delivering god knows what, so I could not ask them." Lavender. The girl's name rolled off her tongue odd. Hermione had decided to take it easy with her relationship with Ron and keep it friends until they graduated before anything became official, but he was so desperate that only a few days later Hermione had caught the two snogging in the halls.

It did not really hurt that bad, Hermione found out. She was not livid with jealousy. Hermione felt like the two… deserved each other, watching them snog each other until they were both purple in the face. It was funny, she had been livid before, but now she did not really… care. It kind of almost scared her how much she had changed.

Lavender wanted someone who would make her feel beautiful; someone she could dote constantly upon and kiss and hug and express her undying love to. Ron wanted someone who would make him feel like a king; someone who he could joke with, kiss madly, talk about Quidditch with, and just have fun with. While Lavender a few years ago was a little too stuck on Ron and immature to love, the older Lavender had matured. She was less clingy, and more considerate. She was just the girl Ron liked. And she knew what she wanted, whereas Hermione was uncertain- she wanted Ron, and only Ron.

Hermione accepted the couple. They had not made it 'official' yet, but it was probably because Ron did not want to upset her. But Hermione was no longer the temperamental little girl she had been. She had been changed by war. Scars littered her back, arms, and legs. They could easily have been removed with a glamour or potion, but she decided to keep them so every time she saw them she remembered the sacrifices made. She no longer cried. She no longer moped. Everything up until now, she realized she had taken for granted.

Hermione had snuck out of school easily, aided by the Marauder's Map that she held onto for Ron and Harry. A few professors, like the nearly fully recovered Snape would stalk the halls, but otherwise no other ways of monitoring the students were present. Hermione was the craftiest of the golden trio after all, employing her knowledge wherever needed, and after the war had become more bold and a little impulsive even. It would seem like her and the Marauder's Map combined would mean her success in sneaking from her room and back was almost fully expected.

Besides, she was only sneaking off to get her textbook. What was the harm in being a diligent student?

It would have been nice for Hermione to have Harry's invisibility cloak, but that was wishful thinking at best- he had stored it in Gringotts in order to preserve it for his future son. The son, most likely, to be mothered by Ginny Weasley. The youngest Weasley and only daughter had seemingly come from no where and caught the heart of the Boy-Who-Lived. They would always be seen hand and hand, Ginny giving affection to the shy Harry. She was experienced with boys and more comfortable; Harry was just happy to be with someone who loved him.

So Hermione had been on her merry way down the beat up rocky trail that lead to Hagrid's hut. Her feet, clad in black flats, kicked up rocks and the only sound around was her footsteps. She looked around, feeling as though it was almost a bit too quiet, however. There usually were owls about, mostly wild but some pets let out to enjoy the night before returning to their masters in the morning to sleep, that chattered and swooped about.

The silence was unnerving, and made her more keen to her surroundings. While this often would have been her downfall, helping her succumb to her paranoia, this night was a night different than any other.

There, in the woods, she had noticed something. It was black, but a different black than the surroundings. While the black around the shape hinted the color of either brown or green- the trees, this shape was simply black. And shaped like the silhouette of a human.

Hermione's breath hitched, and she froze where she stood. Her eyes blinked twice, a cold sweat forming as she made sure her imagination was not fooling with her as it did many times before. As she focused her sights upon the possible mere product of her imagination and paranoia, it moved about. Coming closer.

It seemed as though it did not notice her. At first, at least. However, as it got dangerously close- only ten yards away at most, it stopped. It was no longer an it, however. Hermione's eyes picked up on the shadowed pale face, partially obscured by the black hood upon his long black robe. HIS jaw was square, framed with dark stubble, and his complexion struck heavily against his attire, a pale and pure white. Those lips he possessed were a neutral shade of peach, and pursed. At least they were, until the sides curved into a wicked grin directed towards Hermione herself.

His mouth moved. Hermione faintly heard the words, in a cruel voice that made her feel as though the temperature dropped. "Incendio."

Bright flames of orange and yellow burst forward, and she was aware of a great increase of temperature. Hermione gritted her teeth, casting off a spell of her own to quench the angry flames. "Aguamenti!"

A great amount of water blasted out of the tip of Hermione's wand, overcoming the harsh flames and dousing her unprepared attacker. He wasted none of his time to set up a shield with his magic to protect him from the water, and cast a hot-air charm to dry himself off. Hermione opted for a more destructive spell to destroy his shield. "Confringo!"

The shield stood no chance for the blasting curse, and it was destroyed on the spot, flames lingering in its spot for a few moments. The man sent out a hex of his own, non verbally, and Hermione blocked it quickly, not wishing to find out first what spell it was. It looked to be an unforgivable curse, and as she had trouble blocking it, the spell was more than likely one,

'Oh Merlin! This is dangerous. Is he a remaining death eater? I thought the ministry had caught them all… or at least most of them. Bloody hell, this man means business. He wants to bloody murder me!' Hermione's legs started to shake, before her courage swelled up in her chest. She might have had the brains of a Ravenclaw, the cunning of a Slytherin, and the work ethic and friendliness that any Hufflepuff had, but what really stood out was her unbending courage. It easily willed away the insecurities she might have. The shaking in her legs ceased.

The man had stopped his spells, and seemed to be wondering why she was standing there. In doing so, it became obvious he seemed confident, that he could easily dispose of her. She duly noted this, so she would no underestimate him at any moment.

And then, Hermione took in her position. She was in the open, an easy sitting duck. That had to change.

There was a sizable boulder to her left, and if she ran full speed, she could reach it and use it as a cover. It seemed like a plan. One second, she stood there dumbly, the next she dashed madly, rolling behind it to dodge a hex that nearly hit her square in the chest. Once there, she crouched and sent a few spells his way.

The difference in their intentions, however, was becoming glaringly obvious.

Hermione was fighting a defensive war. He was trying to harm her, make her suffer. Hermione had inhibitions and no killing intent. He was tossing dangerous spell after spell, many not very pleasant at all. In fact, Hermione was sure he had at one point tossed a Crucio or two, but had not heard him clear enough to tell for sure.

Needless to say, Hermione was starting to lose. He advanced upon her position slowly, and she kept shooting spells to slow his pace down. But it was evident they were on two different skill levels. He came so close upon her position, and she dashed from behind the boulder, knowing her place was no longer safe nor wise to stay at.

Hermione expected to make it to the woods, hoping to use the element of surprise to allow her to escape. Wishful thinking, but not realistic.

A smirk crossed his features as he promptly thought of just the spell to use.

He cast a sectum sepra with the flick of a wrist, and invisible blades began to slice at her. They focused around her torso, but also licked at her arms, a light slice to her throat, and one gash across her cheek. 'Bloody hell, oh merlin, great gods!' Hermione thought incoherently, gritting her teeth and moaning in the pain that spread like a wildfire. She forced herself to remain standing strong like a pole, and was battered by slice after slice, body swaying slightly.

While this would have been a good chance for the male to finish her off, his obscene confidence once again shone through. He merely watched her resist the urge to writhe like an unearthed worm, his grin becoming toothy. He was a vicious cat, playing with her until she grew boring, and when the mouse outlived her entertainment factor he would sweep down upon her and deliver the killing blow.

Such was the entitlement of any predator.

"Vulnera Sanentur." Hermione croaked, and she felt the blood clot on her wounds and bleeding stop, as a soft song seemed to flow out from her wand. She would have cast it again to further heal the wounds, but it took a lot of time to use the spell to heal, and she noticed her attacker readying himself. Instead, she cast a different spell to numb the pain of the wounds, and did what came first in her head.

She ran backwards towards the woods, watching the black clothed assailant. 'I will not let him catch me off guard again… that was a bad idea.' He shot a spell her way, but she was prepared.

"Protego!" The spell he had sent bounced off the shielding charm, hitting the ground. He sent a volley of spells at her, and she used the spell again and again to reflect them away. She never stopped her backpedaling, and soon found herself almost hitting a tree. 'I have more cover now… but nowhere to run or hide. I can only hope I stumble upon something. I hope.'

She ducked into said cover behind a thick tree trunk of an older tree, before casting a stronger shield that covered herself. "Protego Totalum!"

A protective bubble shield fell over her, ready to protect her from anything. Hermione heard a strong spell hit the tree, and then saw flames creep upon the wood, flushing her face with heat. In moments, the whole tree would be charcoal. If she were unlucky, the trunk would collapse before the whole tree burned, and it would fall upon her. No further notice was needed for Hermione to start her mad dash into the woods. Adrenaline pumped through her body.

"Maybe I can lose him. If I outrun him, and find somewhere to hide."

A spell hit her shield soundly, and she glanced over her shoulder. The damn crazy potential death eater was starting to chase after her. She somehow, despite her growing need for air as she ran, managed to sigh. "Again, with the wishful thinking!"

"ITS NOT THAT EASY!" The sick thrill within the voice of the man currently pursuing her almost made Hermione freeze in place like a raindrop in absolute zero. Shivers rolled down her back like thunderous waves, and the hairs on the back of her neck were suddenly standing needles. 'He is completely mental! A loon!'

Needless to say, her running sped up.

She could hear hex after hex wizz by- and she felt a few hit the shield solidly. Panic began to rise in her mind. "I am SO screwed. SO SCREWED!" Hermione said to herself, messily jumping over a rock in her way. She zigzagged between trees- thankful that this was a normal forest, not the forbidden one. To her knowledge, the only thing she needed to worry about was the crazy bastard behind her. No giant spiders, no centaurs, no magical creatures with an acquired taste for human blood.

It was only a matter of time before Hermione came upon a clearing in the forest. She had no where to zig zag behind or between, but she tried it anyways. A strong hex was launched, shattering her shield, and she fell due to the brute force, landing oddly on her ankle.

The man, feeling like the fun was coming to an end, licked his wand sinisterly as he caught up with the fallen witch. He decided to end it there and then.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Hermione never had moved so quickly before in her life.

"AH!" Hermione shouted as she rolled out of the way of the killing curse, pupils dilating, heart pounding. Her face flushed even redder than it had been before.

'DID HE JUST CAST THAT!' She thought to herself with wide eyes and a wide mouth, squeaking softly. Panic settled in quickly as it was a common guest, and she cast an extra strong Protego Totalum, feeling her magic dwindle away. She used the shield as a buffer so she could get herself out of her vulnerable position. As Hermione staggered up from the ground, ankle twisted at an odd angle, the strange man had caught up and faced her. His hood had been pulled back. Short, trimmed curly locks of ebony framed his ivory face. His eyes were a sickening green, the color of foul stagnant water.

And his expression. He was bloody happy, no giddy. In a sickening, perverted sense. The sadist was more than happy to have cornered his prey. Those eyes of his glanced at her foot and then back at her, and they burned the sense of hopelessness into her.

And then, he went to break her last defense.

"Crucio!" He shouted, his voice deep and commanding. Hermione desperately moved to dodge it and save her shield, but her ankle screamed in pain and the spell clipped the shield, shattering it. The magic shield shattered and its bits dissolved into nothing, leaving her defenseless and weak. Her magic was almost completely drained as well. She had dueled early in school, and while it had not taken much of a toll at the time, it was now evident that her magic was sapped away.

His features became even more snaky, grin spreading, as he realized his victory was so blatant and easy to fullfill. With the unmerciful eyes of a predator, he pointed his wand at her and taunted her to draw her own.

'I know no deadly or extremely strong spells…but if I exert more magic than usual, maybe I can create an extra strong stupefy…' Hermione thought. Wishfully. Perhaps, for once, this wish would come true.

Hermione drew her wand and shouted, in sync with her attacker.

* * *

It was funny how things worked themselves out.

Hermione was in a fog, laying down, crumpled on the forest floor. Her thoughts? Almost non existent, like the odds of her getting out of this alive. Had she known her fate, Hermione would not have broken the rules. That much was obvious. Instead, she would have went to sleep like a good Gryffindor and retrieved her book in the morning. But there was no time turner around her neck to change that.

Impulsive decisions seemed to be her reckoning.

So she lay there, eyes beginning to fog like a window on a cold winter morning. Her heart was slowing down, and color drained from her face. Her lung had given out thirty seconds ago, and she was living on borrowed time, as her body began to crave sweet oxygen. The night sky shone above her, a dark gray speckled with tiny little lights.

'mmmmm so nice so prettyyyyy' she drawled within her thoughts, slowly succumbing. It was hard to think straight, or hard, but basic things came out easily. It was like learning to bike. Once you got accustomed to it, you slipped into it and forgot how hard it had been. In this case, Hermione was forgetting that she was dying, and accepting it.

Ignorance in this case was bliss.

But that acceptance did not last, for something stirred within her, awoke from its long slumber. It was something strange that she never knew was in her, something ever so dark and mysterious that had been asleep before. It pushed at her, urging her not to succumb. It was strong, she felt, and It was her. But at the same time, It was not her. At least, not yet. She accepted It with wide arms. It crept upon her, clearing her mind and allowing her to think clearly.

Hermione's emotions began to swell up, and her courage seemed to burst out angrily.

'AM I JUST GOING TO BLOODY GIVE UP!' Hermione thought with indignation. And that thought changed everything.

She willed herself, and pushed for it, and tried her best. She strained, and strained. And then, the sound of air rushing down her wind pipes filled her ears, and sweet air her lungs. It was a beautiful sound. The sweet, soothing, pleasant, god sent sound that meant she was going to live.

With that breath, life seemed to return to her. Hermione's mind cast off the residual fog that had been driven to the corners of her mind. Her fingers and toes began to tingle, as they awoke from their sleep. To her delight, she could wiggle them. Color rushed back to her face, and she went from sheet white one moment to soft peach and then to a flushed dark pink. Her eyes became their deep chocolate color once again.

Euphoria rushed her senses as everything became clear, her head buzzing. She found her hand easily curling into a fist. But the residual ache of her deep gashes from the sectum sepra w starting to come back, the spell she cast to relieve the pain failing. Her ankle also started to protest, and she was almost certain it was either sprained or worse. The strange angle it sat at was… concerning.

Hermione tried to get up, and found she was able to pull her upper body up. Her heart fluttered in joy, and her body cried out softly in pain. She supported herself with slightly shaking hands that lay on the ground and splayed hands.

"Bloody 'ell," She murmured softly, blinking rapidly and taking deep breaths to calm herself, "he must have cast it incorrectly. Yeah, must be it. He must have done something wrong. That is the only thing I can think of."

With a push of will and the strain of her muscles, Hermione slowly got up, body creaky and tired.

She swallowed down any other doubts about the unforgivable curse, pushing them away. It was bothering her how much stamina he had left and how un-pressured he had been to cast the curse. Any experienced Death Eater could cast Avada Kedavra easily while under the stress and pressure of battle, and this man had her right in front of her!

It was just easier to dismiss it as a mistake.

'This is just great! Bloody git nearly took my life. McGonagall will turn this bastard in to the ministry and then he can rot in Azkaban where complete arses like him belong!' Hermione thought, wincing in pain as she straine herself getting worked up. She glanced towards the man with her brown eyes, reaffirming that he was in deed stiffly laying down due to her curse. He was completely frozen, save for his sickening eyes which were completely movable and currently fixed upon her. Emotions freely swirled about them, mucking in their sick color. Whether it was in surprise or anger, she was not sure. Maybe both. Hermione broke her gaze from him, thinking about how close he was to killing her.

"…you cast a horrid killing curse. You must be inexperienced…" Hermione spoke, facing away from him, eyes glancing down at her shoes. She tried her best to level her voice and make it sound like she was composed, not worried and in disbelief that she managed to come out alive.

Her shoes were slightly scuffed and had collected dirt and mud, as well as a few leaves. But she almost could not break her gaze from them. Something about looking away from the man, and trying her best to forget the pain she had just gone through, had enticed her fully and so her gaze was fixated upon those shoes. She could have gone on for hours.

The slash wounds that marred her flesh and clothing. Her gashes from sectum sepra were starting to weep, and if she left them unhealed they might get infected and kill her. One of the luckily shallow cuts, which she felt through the rip of the once white cloth of her white shirt, was right above her heart.

"First, signal for help, then lightly heal the wounds. I'm not too great with healing magic," Hermione spoke softly to herself, wondering absentmindedly if her shoes were a dark brown or a black.

She figured they were dark brown. Now, she had to focus on what was going on around her.

Forcing herself to look up, Hermione pointed her wand above her head to cast a signal flare. "Periculum." She rasped.

Nothing happened.

"Periculum!" She called out again, growing impatient.

Not even the smallest spark emitted from her wand. Nothing.

Hermione sighed, and looked for a small object so she could check her wand out. A small rock the size of her fist worked fine. "Wingardium Leviosa." She swish and flicked elegantly, performing the spell she had mastered within two minutes of learning on her first day of Hogwarts. The rock remained perfectly still.

Just freaking perfect. Hermione brought her palm to her forehead, sighing angrily.

She had either busted her wand, or over exerted her magic. Either way, there was a long trail leading back to the castle that she HAD to limp back up with her twisted right ankle. Otherwise, she was stuck here until the man naturally eased out of her curse or she died from the internal bleeding that she was sure was starting to occur. A soft trickle of blood rolled down her belly.

She froze, realizing the wounds were re-opening.

"Blast! My healing spell was shoddy. Stupid, I knew I should have tried harder to master healing spells, even if Ron and Harry are more than capable of casting the bloody spells instead of me! I should have paid more attention to them, rather than shield and offensive charms! I'm a bloody idiot." Her hand drew back and then once again hit her forehead, this time repeatedly, as she vented her frustration.

The wounds on her upper arm screamed. Hermione instantly returned the arm to her side, expression becoming serious. She glanced up at the walk she had to make and inwardly groaned, before forcing her body to move.

'The residual ache is only a hint of what is to come by the time I make it,' She thought, 'I am sure by the time I get up there I will be half dead.'

As if to prove her right, the deep wound on her side cried out as she stepped with her left leg, and wept tears of red that dribbled down her flesh.

* * *

Ok. This gets much more... out there.

I have no actual idea for any pairings. My SSHG fangirls wants to add it, but I really know my characterization of Snape would be horribly off.

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1.03.01


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter****two**

I kind of know where I'm going with this… be aware I'm totally screwing with the Harry Potter universe. I'll tell you one thing- its definitely not predictable. I hope, at least. Because that's what I'm striving for- uniqueness.

Oh, if anything in this story pisses you off (as in something like- GOD THIS IS RIDICULOUS WHY ARE YOU WRITING THIS LIKE THIS) just tell me. I know.

Also, I'm getting tired of writing about pain. So it WILL probably sound horrid.

* * *

"Nnngggg…" Hermione drawled, as her wounds cried tears of blood that dribbled down her torso. While she had faced the worst pain of her life in the form of a botched killing curse, that did not mean that she was any more resilient to pain. Her wounds were hell to walk with, her cuts screaming and bleeding as they slowly reopened, and her ankle throbbing with each step.

Oh, how she was so glad that her encounter with the Death Eater had not occurred any further down the trail. She was nearly at the giant wooden doors of Hogwarts, having traversed uphill for what was most likely an hour, but felt like days on end. Hermione's body was growing wearier and wearier, and the bleeding was beginning to pose a problem. While some of the minor cuts were only weeping blood, the larger ones were starting to stream it. Blood loss could pose a risk if she were left untreated for too much longer.

"Shite…" She growled under her breath, clenching her teeth to fight back a cry as the foot with the bad ankle once again hit the ground. "Why am I such an insufferable friggin' know it all… and a daft idiot even then."

Fighting back tears, she continued walking. There was no reason to cry. It was her fault she was in such a state. She just HAD to get the bloody textbook to study for a test that was not even coming up for another week. So she had to deal with it like any sensible person would.

"So close…" She murmured, her head aching. A feverish heat spread over her forehead. She was so close, and yet, at the end of her endurance. "Got to push through this… I've been through worse, I'm sure…"

When she finally reached the door, she almost fell. Enthusiasm flooded her, and her mouth went from a cringing frown from pain to a wide smile. "Finally." She reached forward, stroking the wood before pushing.

Her expression dropped as the door refused to budge. She never knew it was charmed so that at night it would only open from the inside, so as to protect it from outsiders. This was certainly new, she knew, as Harry, Ron, and her never had this problem during their earlier years at Hogwarts.

"Shitttttt…" Hermione growled, and the pain of her wounds became even more obvious as she exerted her muscles. She was so pissed, frustrated, and at the end of the line. The tears did their best to pool below her eyes, and she tried her best to fight them off. "FUCK. SHIT. DAMMIT."

Taking her frustration out on the door, she slammed her fists angrily against it. Over and over, she kept assaulting the door, venting the wave of emotions that overcame her. She was blind to her wounds, which were opening and bleeding profusely. She just made her bleeding even worse than before, by opening every wound. Hell, she was not thinking straight and was not ready to start doing so.

BANG BANG BANG BANG. Bang. Bang. Bang… bang.

Hermione slipping down on to her knees, tears starting to form. She bit her lip tightly, muffling a sob. So close, yet so damn far. It was bloody friggin' ridiculous.

"BLAST IT!" She growled, sniffing. Oh, so many emotions ran through her but the strongest was the despair. She had encountered a Dementor before, and so she knew it was as if one had come across her and sucked all hope out of her aching body. 'No friggin' hope… none. I am just going to die here, on the fucking door step. Bleed out, and die. They will find me in the morning, sheet white and in a crusty puddle of my own fucking dirty muggleborn blood.'

Hermione bit her lip, let out a guttural scream of pent up anger, and resigned herself to looking down, fighting tears.

Oh, how she thought it was her imagination when she heard the door creaked open. She refused to bring her head up, to have her hopes dashed once again. There was no way.

"Merowwww~?" Crookshanks' signature harsh but loving cry made her look up. There he was, his fluffy orange head peeking out of the crack between the two giant doors, cute pushed in face and head tilted in obvious concern for his dear owner. His tail, plumed at the end, curled and twisted in the air gently. What a fucking smart cat he was.

"Crookshanks? I love you so much right now…" Hermione rasped, reaching for the resourceful feline. He loosened up, allowing her to pick him up and place him on her lap. Hell, she would get help after this amazing cat got its recognition for being quite possibly the best pet alive. "You are bloody brilliant, Crookshanks. Bloody brilliant. And a literal life saver. If Ron ever dares insult you again, I swear, I will punch him square in the face. Bloody git does not know an intelligent cat when he sees one."

She stroked the cat, who purred heavily and rubbed against her lovingly, his soft fur sweeping over her skin. He noticed a cut on her shoulder, and hopped up on her to lightly lick it, paws lightly pressed on another cut unknowingly. She cringed a bit, waiting for him to finish his display of concern. He then hopped down and gave a concerned look at Hermione, his orange eyes showing the worry for her vividly. Hermione looked where he had licked, and cringed at the wound, before weakly smiling at her sweet little orange guardian angel.

"Ah, yes Crookshanks. I got in a spot of trouble and now I am not in the best shape. You are wonderful for helping me, I do not think any other cat could open such a large door… in fact, I do not even know how such a small creature could that. I have to get help for my wounds though."

Hermione got up slowly, and Crookshanks leapt out of the way with the grace every cat seemed to have naturally. She then reached for the door handle, relishing the cool feel of brass, and pulled the door open wider. She stumbled clumsily into the school, her legs starting to feel like jelly. The wide ceilings and marble floors sent a rush of relief through her system, nostalgia and a sense of safety washing over her. She reveled in it. This time the relief would not be dashed or crushed right in front of her. She was finally here.

Now to get some damn help.

"Crookshanks, get a teacher… here, take my wand. If a teacher sees you with one, I'm sure they will be concerned and follow you." Hermione looked down at the orange cat, knowing he understood her. What a smart cat he was. She offered the wand, which was lightweight, and the cat bit down upon it. He skittered off without a second thought, carrying the long wand as she watched him. "…good boy."

Weak and disoriented, Hermione Granger collapsed upon the cold marble ground, landing sharply upon her left arm and then softly plopping on her belly. She slipped in between consciousness and unconsciousness unceremoniously, the world around her slowly fading. Her mind unsharpened itself, a fog rolling over. Everything seemed to freeze. Time seemed to stop. Her ears heard almost nothing, losing their tune to the outside world.

Her lips spread in a simple smile. She was back in Hogwarts. Safe and sound.

"…Granger, Miss Granger! What happened…."

She softly giggled, but it probably came out more like a groan, her mouth pressed against the marble. She felt strong hands pull at her, rolling her over on her back. A soft gasp. Her eyes flickered, the light of the overhead chandelier almost blinding.

"….you right now. These are bad wounds and…sectum sepra… bleeding…"

She caught a glimpse of her potion teacher's dark hair, and pale skin. She could not make out his features through her squinted eyes, they were blurred together as they were unremarkable, save for the obvious shape of his crooked nose. It was kind of cute, actually. The hook nose. It was unique actually, now that she thought about it, and did not look half bad on him. He could go fishing with that nose!

'I wonder what kind of fish he would catch?'

With that last muddled thought and the soft lullaby of angels, Hermione Granger closed her eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

A copper taste slid down Hermione's throat, lukewarm and viscous. Its taste was overbearing, and its strong rusty scent drifting into her nose. She let the sensation sink in, and as it relented, she suddenly struggled against it. She gagged, sitting up blindly. The taste slowly faded away and her gagging turned into dry coughing, and a hand rubbed her back, comforting her until it subsided.

Hermione opened her eyes, and realized that she suddenly was… aware. Her body, she felt was filled with dull aches. Her stomach stung at her spontaneous movement, nothing too painful, but it was certainly there. She gingerly touched the area that stung, moving back her white covers and feeling it through her hospital gown. An unexpected slight flat bulge of bandages and soft, dull pain greeted her.

Hospital gown. Bandages. Something in the back of her head screamed out for her to realize what was going on. And she heard it.

"Eh?" She jumped a bit, eyes widening and heart beginning to beat faster. Her memories were lagging in filling her in on the situation, and confusion flooded her senses. Her eyes searched the room, finding it was the infirmary of Hogwarts. A privacy screen hid her from the other beds.

"Shhh, hon. I fixed you up fine," Madame Pomfrey said kindly, giving Hermione a reassuring smile. Hermione's head whipped to see the medic witch. She sat to her side, and on the desk beside her was a half empty potion that was a muddy reddish brown color. It looked disgusting, and she shuddered, putting two and two together. She internally gagged and externally grimaced, remembering the potion's overbearing taste of iron and copper. It had tasted somewhat like blood, but have a strange other taste that was old and… unappealing.

Hermione blinked twice, trying her best to remember what had happened and where she was. A memory, so close and yet so far away taunted her.

"How long have I been asleep?" Hermione demanded, though she tried to be courteous with her inquiry.

"Maybe thirty minutes, dear. Ol' Severus Snape carried you in, his poker face slightly distraught. He does, no matter what he makes it seem like, have a soft spot for his students, especially the smart ones." She paused, smiling as she allowed Hermione to digest what she had said. Hermione was thankful for that, for she would have never brought herself to believe that statement otherwise. "Ah, he did apply the counter curse, but that only goes so far. There needs to be time for the body to heal in between applications of any healing spell, or there will be a chance of permanent scarring. A body can only handle so much magic trying to heal itself before it becomes useless."

Madame Pomfrey smiled, and Hermione practically melted. The healer, though usually fussy, was like a second mother. Caring, sweet, and intelligent in her field, she set Hermione's worries away in a flurry.

"I'm sorry I woke you up with that nasty blood replenishing potion, but its better that way anyways. The headmistress and Snape have been itching to find out what happened. You did not exactly have a few scratches. The sectum sepra curse cut you up pretty badly, and the first Vulnera Sanentur was not exactly cast perfectly. Had you been left alone maybe twenty more minutes, your wounds would have fully opened and you would have bled out. I noticed a few nearly cut the bone of your ribs as well." Pomfrey leaned closer to her, and whispered softly into her ear, "And the slices cut up your breasts pretty bad. You might lose a size or two, but at least when I'm done with you, you will be scar less, I promise. Is that alright?"

Hermione gulped, her expression hardening, save for a soft tinge of pink to her cheeks. She was not a busty girl to begin with, but rather than feeling distressed, she was morbidly curious how much smaller her breasts would be. After all, large breasts did not run in her family anyway. She was sure she would notice it any way. 'Oh Merlin, am I really a girl…? I would take a big textbook over larger breasts any day…'

"I… I am fine with that…" Hermione mumbled, glancing downwards at her chest. No cleavage, no problem. She never had any in the first place. No use crying over something you did not have in the first place. Her breasts looked the same, anyways- two slight lumps. "I was not that… well, busty in the first place…"

"Mhm. Well, I should inform-" Madam Pomfrey paused, listening to the sound of footsteps as they entered the room, "Nevermind, he seems to be here. Saves me the time to call him in."

Severus Snape, composure held perfectly, strolled in front of Hermione. His features slightly indicated his emotion- anger and confusion, and he stared hard into her eyes, before he straightened them out and began to chew her out. "Now, Miss Granger, if you would, please elaborate on what incredibly idiotic circumstance lead you to being assaulted outside of Hogwarts and leave you a bleeding body on the floor. Do tell."

Oh Snape. His reputation was nothing compared to anything. Even after barely escaping death from a snake bite to the neck, he still had the same anger towards the world and anyone who inhabited it, rather than a more upbeat disposition that was expected of any other person literally saved from the jaws of death. Hermione knew somewhere deep, deep, deep, deeeeep down he was concerned and not as much of a prick as he let on, but that was only a hypothesis.

Hermione took a deep breath. She found the memories had snuck their way back in while she was having a chat with Pomfrey.

"Well, earlier today… er, yesterday, technically…" Snape gave her an annoyed looked, which she knew was his way of saying for her to go on. "Harry, Ron, and I visited Hagrid to visit him, you know, we have not seen him for a little while and wanted to see how he was doing."

Hermione paused, motioning to Madame Pomfrey. The potion had left her throat dry and hoarse. Surprisingly, Snape walked away and fetched her a cup of water instead, and she mumbled a soft thanks as he gave it to her. She was sure Snape knew the side effects of the potion, and he had been prepared for it and did not hold her to it. But he did urge her to go on with a look.

"Well, I had forgotten my Advanced Potions book there. I had brought it to Hagrid's to study for the upcoming test," Hermione paused, watching Snape give her a look, one that berated her for being such a damn insufferable know it all. "So… I did not realize it was absent until I sat down in my bed, ready to do some studying before going to bed. I was a dreadful mess, panicking. I had only read the book twice, and could not recall some of the subject matter that was coming up on the test.

So, I decided impulsively that I was going to retrieve my book. Once I had made up my mind, no logic dared object me. I can be impulsive at times, even if I am an 'insufferable know it all'." Hermione paused, rolling the remark off her tongue with relish. It was no longer a phrase that hurt her, though it still haunted her, but a phrase she adopted as her motto. "I was on my way down the trail, and everything seemed to be fine. But then, the owls disappeared, the crickets quieted, and the wind seemed to stop blowing- not even a little breeze."

She took another sip, phantom pain racking her body as she remembered what happened next. Hermione's face worked hard to hide what she thought, biting lightly on her lower lips before continuing.

"There was a black clad figure in the woods. I thought it was just my mind playing tricks, at first, until he turned. And then started attacking me. I dodged and shielded against his attacks, which were almost playful. He thought he was strong, and knew I was only a student. His confidence that he would win against me was rock solid." Hermione took another sip, this times to calm the shiver down her spine and the shaking of her hands. "I tried to make a break for the woods, without thinking my defenses through, and he hit me with Sectum sepra. He simply watched as I was sliced up, though he had the chance to capture me, kill me, or anything else. The spell was not too dangerous, because his intentions of employing its use was not to severely cripple me but rather to lightly harm me so I would be able to run and he could pursue me. To him I was the mouse, he was the cat. But I knew that, and did not wish to submit to him.

So, I stood my ground as I was cut apart, and refused to humor him with my screaming. If I did, I am sure he would have won then and there. I did not want to submit to the pain, because I did not want to lose." Hermione spoke solemnly, the fear gone from her body. Instead, she spoke, with a hidden venom lightly dribbling down her words. Though she did not notice, Snape's eyebrows shot up for a moment, surprised at the tone a true Gryffindor like her was using. It sounded like the tone of an miffed Slytherin.

"I cast a Vulnera Sanentur to clot the bleeding, and then backpedaled towards the woods. This time, I was prepared and cast a shield charm to cover me. Then, I started running into the woods. I figured I might lose him and be able to return to Hogwarts in one piece. I was wrong, because he was able to follow my every movement, even in the dark. Then, I stumbled upon a clearing." Hermione gulped.

"I tripped over something I had not seen, twisting my ankle. I did not get up immediately, so he tried to hit me with a killing curse. I assure you, professor, I do not believe I ever moved that fast to dodge anything before in my life. I had my shield charm still up, but did not want to chance it. Not at all.

Then he cast a crucio, just to break my shield. He knew my magic was dwindling, my stamina as well. But he simply pointed his wand at me, tauntingly, challenging me to a one on one spell exchange. He knew he had nothing to lose, because I was not casting Unforgivables and he certainly was."

Hermione reached for her cup out of nervousness, but slowly put it down, realizing she was not dehydrated. She was not sure how to explain her 'miracle'. She was not sure if she should tell them. It would bring unneeded worry upon her. After all, maybe he had cast a crucio instead and she had heard wrong?

"I took my wand and stood up pointing at him. We were silent, unmoving, although he knew he was going to win. And then we exchanged spells. I hit, he missed. I cast a body binding charm and he cast another killing curse. Tired, I tried to cast a signal flare using Periculum, but I think I exhausted my magic by this point because I could not do so. Then, I walked up here, and Crookshanks let me in. Oh yeah, and I collapsed on the floor, dirtying it with my blood." Hermione added the last part with snide. She was tired, cranky, sore, and progressively getting more and more pissed off at herself for being such a know it all. She waited for Snape to deduct house points, but it never came.

"Did you know the individual? And could you give the location?" Snape asked softly, understanding her predicament and deciding that being a snark arse could hold off for now. It was possibly the only time he was not spitting words out laced with venom. Hermione's eyes widened slightly at his display of human decency, but she quickly hid her surprise and continued her story.

"No, but I am almost certain he is a death eater. I got a good look at his face at one point, as well… as for the location, on the trail to Hagrid's hut there is a single giant boulder… enter the forest from there. I am certain the marks of spells will lead you to where the clearing is, he missed quite a few and I am sure they make a trail back. With any lucky, he may still be there. Not much time has passed, and unless he has a companion, he most likely is still frozen."

Snape nodded, and departed. But not before his final words. "I will have the Ministry stop by later on for questioning, at a decent hour, if the perpetrator is not caught. Rest here, do not worry about your classes. You are the sole witness, so far, and we need your account to be accurate. Also, Madame Pomfrey, I believe that when Miss Granger wakes up a potion maybe be necessary, if her magic is still weak."

Smiling at his words which she agreed fully to, Hermione proceeded to snuggle into the bed and close her eyes. By gods, did it ever feel lovely to slip into a deep slumber. Her subconscious pushed out any residual thoughts, worries, and concerns. It was time to sleep, not worry.

When she woke up, she was not alone in the room.

Two men were talking with Madame Pomfrey to the far side, their voices reduced to mere whispers. She turned her head slightly, feigning sleep even longer, and catching a glimpse of Professor Snape and McGonagall as they too strolled in. Judging from the fact that they were speaking in hushed tones rather than using silencing charms, it was easy to tell she was the only student currently in the infirmary.

She glanced over to the desk beside her next, smiling at the get well cards. There were maybe ten or twenty, some with candy and others with flowers. Hermione's chest filled with warmth, feeling the consideration the other students had given her. It was amazing to feel missed and loved, and her heart fluttered at the thought.

Hermione shifted herself so she was propped against the head board of the bed, and reached over to pick up the cards. She read the first one, a cutely homemade card with a crude drawing of a bandage. It was from Neville, and the message inside made her smile widely, and then she glanced at the small pot which was currently empty but would soon grow a small flowering plant. He was such a considerate and creative person. She set the card to the side and picked up the next one. It was from Ron. He told her that she better get better quickly or else, not specifying on what 'else' was. She grinned, and then looked at the next card, from Ginny.

They were not that close, but she was considerate in telling her to get well, even if she probably did not care half as much as Harry probably did. They were not that close, seeing as Ginny never found much common ground with Hermione, but they respected and acknowledged each other and that was enough for Hermione.

She read Harry's card next, smiling at how concerned he was. Harry was a sweet guy, and his worry seemed to emante from his words. He had also taped a chocolate frog, fresh in its box, to the card. It reminded her of the train ride when he had his first chocolate frog. At first, she thought it was barbaric, but she soon realized it was nothing but harmless fun. It was like eating gummy worms, only it would move. She thanked whoever came up with the candy mentally for making sure the magic was gone the moment the frog touched the tongue. Otherwise, Hermione would have never been able to stand eating the chocolate novelty treat.

Hermione set the card aside, though she was truly tempted to eat the chocolate. Her hunger was becoming obvious, stomach growling and gurgling, and she wondered to herself what time it was. For once, she woke up feeling refreshed, rather than tired and haggard from late night studying. If she had a mirror handy, Hermione was sure her face would be much more healthier looking than normal, because her normal included studying and working into the night, every night.

She set aside the cards, telling herself she would read them all later. Right now, her stomach was empty and she was keen on getting a bite to eat. The candy was tempting, but she knew it was not what she craved right now. She wanted real food. 'Should I tell Madame Pomfrey, or just wait until she's done talking to them? I am extremely hungry right now… what time is it, anyway?' Hermione glanced towards the window set against the neutral wall, and winced. 'Geez, its sunny out. It must be at least twelve o'clock… I already missed three classes and at least half of another.'

Hermione turned back towards Madame Pomfrey and noticed that she and the two strangers were making their way over. She did not recognize these two people, but assumed they were aurors because of their appearance and sort of aura they gave off. One was female, the other male, and they both looked pretty serious. The woman had short blonde hair in a small ponytail and soft green eyes; she was mildly attractive but an overbearing nose and strong jaw threw it off. The man was older, with slightly balding curly brown hair riddled with gray. They were clad in long black robes, and strode over with a sort of confidence Hermione was certain only an auror would have.

"Hello, Miss Granger. We are from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and we would like to ask you a few questions right now. Do you mind?" The female spoke, her voice cold and smooth. Hermione thought it over quickly and was sure she could hold off on a meal, but found herself asking anyways.

"No, I do not mind. May I have something to eat though? I am afraid that I have not eaten in a while." Hermione asked politely.

"There is no problem that we have with that. When we get to the Headmistress' office, we will summon up a house elf and ask for something you can eat. We would like to hold the questioning in the Headmistress' office, simply out of formality and security. Is that alright with you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione nodded, her stomach growling loudly. She blushed a deep pink.

Taking the hint, Hermione gingerly got out of bed, clad in a long hospital gown that luckily did preserve her chastity. Her wounds were mostly healed, however they still stung softly. Her ankle, she noticed to her delight, had miraculously healed. It was wondrous, not having to cringe in pain due to a wound upon the one place she always had to use. Silently thanking Madame Pomfrey and mentally reminding herself to thank the nurse verbally once she was done with the questioning, Hermione followed the two people she assumed were Aurors to the fireplace.

They all locked hands, and the man took out a generous helping of Floo from his pocket. "Headmistress' office." Her commanded in his baritone voice, tossing the powder into the orange flames. The flames became a bright green, and no longer emitted heat. The three stepped in and everything seemed to rush by. The next thing Hermione knew, she was at the destination.

'I do not think I will ever fully get over the strange feeling of traveling with floo. At least I am never nauseous anymore.' Hermione thought to herself with a shudder, taking her arm out of the link the two older people had her in the middle of.

Hermione followed the two over to the desk, in which a mildly concern McGonagall sat. She did not try to hide her worry for one of her most exceptional student, something that made Hermione softly smile.

They sat in the three chairs that were in front of the desk, and for a moment there was silence, save for the soft crooning of Fawkes as he sung a small song. The phoenix finished his song on a soft note, and then Mcgonagall cleared her throat, preparing to say something.

"I believe that the two of you were to begin an questioning of my student, correct? Now, go on, do not let me presence be a bother. This room is heavily warded and no unwanted ears can listen in on our conversation." She said formally, smiling towards Hermione. As Headmistress it was no surprise she was present during the questioning, since the incident quite possibly jeopardized the safety of her students, and was a deep concern for the safety of Hogwarts itself.

"Alright, M'am." The man said, pausing, "But could you perhaps summon a house elf? She seems to have missed breakfast and is hungry after sleeping so long."

"Ah, yes, I can do that. The elves just finished up lunch, and I am sure there are plenty of leftovers." McGonagall gave a friendly smile towards Hermione, who graciously returned it, before calling the name of a house elf. "Blinky!"

The house elf, skinny and clothed in simple but modest clothing, appeared with a crack. It had wide muddy brown eyes and it greeted the Headmistress gracefully. "Missus McGonagall, how may Blinky help you?"

"Miss Granger missed both breakfast and lunch. Would you mind fixing her up something to eat?"

"Oh course, Blinky will get the Missus Granger something to eat! Right now!" The elf fussed, features brightening at her name. He disappeared with a pop, leaving the two strangers a bit curious.

"Ah, Miss Granger here in her fourth year tried to campaign for better rights for House Elves," McGonagall grinned, looking towards Hermione, "And though it at first failed and the elves were initially so upset over the mere thought of changing up their routine that they refused to even clean the Gryffindor common room, she has now become more respected amongst the house elves, which now are happily clothed."

"Hmm… well is that not interesting, Miss Granger?" The blonde woman said, looking admirably towards the girl. "Ah, seems we have not introduced ourselves yet. My name is Berenice Davies, and my partner here is Alec Baker."

Hermione nodded, and they sat in silence. It was not so much an awkward silence as just a simple one, as they waited for Blinky to reappear. The house elf came to with a soft pop, a tray with a fresh roll of bread, some butter, a sandwich jammed with various deli meats and fresh lettuce, a small bowl of minestrone soup, and a glass of water. The proper utensils were also on the tray. He placed it on McGonagall's desk gently, right in front of Hermione.

"Thank you very much, Blinky. This looks absolutely delicious." Hermione said enthusiastically, giving the elf a big smile to acknowledge him.

"Blinky is very happy that Missus Granger is pleased! Very happy!" The elf said ecstatically, before bowing and disappearing with yet another pop. He left Hermione content with her food and also surprised that she had actually garnered respect among the elves. She had been under the impression that the elves, save for Dobby, would forever dislike her for even suggesting change. But this development made her… optimistic, and brought a smile to her face.

"Alright, now that the house elf… Blinky, will not intrude into our investigation, I believe we can continue," Alec drawled, his voice deep but certainly not intimidating. He pulled something from his robe, but it was placed down on the desk and out of Hermione's sight in a moment. "Normally, we would make you take an oath or drink Veritaserum, but given your current state of recovery and the fact that you would have no gain in lying, we can start the questioning without these precautions."

Hermione noticed that Berenice had a quill and parchment handy, and silently charmed the two objects. She then placed them down on the desk. 'That must be a charm to record whatever is said, I should probably try to only sy things that pertain to the questioning so as not to mess it up.'

So she ate her sandwich in silence, and washed it down with half of her glass of water. It really hit the spot that needed hitting, and Hermione was quite ravenous. She, however, only eyed the soup and patiently waited for the questioning to start. She could hold back for a bit, especially since the soup looked dreadfully hot.

"Miss Granger, can you first tell us what happened, in your own words? We heard it from your professor, but need to hear it first hand from you as the sole witness." Alec said, and the quill scribbled down his words with such speed that it seemed to be in sync with him.

"Alright, then…" Hermione started to retell the story for the second time today, saying the same slightly changed story had spit out for Snape, only this time she found her emotions were far more detached from her storytelling. It no longer bothered her that she had nearly been killed, that she had been so ignorant in her actions. It was sort of odd, actually. Hermione expected that she would have felt at least something, some sort of feeling or emotion. But she told the story like an unbiased bystander would have, once again conveniently leaving out the botched Avada Kedavra. It was funny why she was hiding that fact, something within her told her not to. And so, she did. Hermione passed it off as her conscious., but it seemed to be something else entirely.

"…" Both Aurors were silent, digesting her words with wide eyes. The whole incident sounded like something so random, painful, and undeserving of the frizzy headed brunette in front of them. But what also threw them off was her lack of emotion. Usually, when they interviewed victims they would break down and cry, or get angry, sometimes even have to stop several times to regain their composure. But here was a girl, no young woman, who had single handedly listed off her own attack without breaking a sweat or feeling any residual feelings. It was an… empty feeling.

"Miss Granger, did you get a good look at the face of your attacker?" Berenice said softly, the sound of the quill the only background noise in the room. It was a thick silence, but it needed to be intruded upon to get the truth.

"Yes, rather well at one point." Hermione said, taking a moment to recollect her memory. "He was tall, with pale skin, sickeningly green eyes, and curly short black hair. His jaw was square… and his features were strong but somehow were able to contort in such a way that they reminded me of a snake."

Alec drew his breath. "Would you be able to identify him from a picture? We have pictures of so far not captured Death Eaters on hand."

"Yes, I believe so."

"Good." He picked up the folder he had placed on the desk moments before, and Hermione noticed it was considerably thick. 'Are there seriously that many Death Eaters still out there? I thought that most of them either died or were apprehended!'

He handed her the folder, which she took gingerly. It was light, but thick. She then opened it up and began to glance over the faces, leafing through the pages. Some were actual magical images that moved, others sketches based on the appearance given by witnesses, and a few stationary images cut from Muggle newspapers. She recognized, to her surprise, some of these faces from the battle at Hogwarts. But as she flicked through to the near end, she found that none matched the man she witnessed last night. Then she flicked to a particular person and her breath hitched.

"Found him?" Alec asked, noticing her reaction.

"No… I just know this Death Eater from experience…" Hermione took another long look at the moving image of Fenrir Greyback, who was lined up against a wall for a criminal photo. He grinned sadistically in the image, baring his inhumanly sharp teeth and showing just how dangerous he could be. She forced herself to continue flicking through the images, pushing the werewolf from her mind. She was here to identify her attacker.

It was the second to last picture that she noticed, and she stopped flicking through. The man had thinner facial features than the one she had encountered, but the resemblance was purely uncanny. The hollow cheeks and eye color matched up, but the hair was a dusty brown rather than black. But Hermione felt the same vibe, as the moving picture showed the man striding off from a fire stricken battlefield, his head turning to face whoever had taken the moving photo, and then the picture looped itself. The same grin.

She skimmed down and read some of the notes on this man, named Alair Ward. He was dangerous and a high ranked Death Eater, with skills on par with most Aurors. He was ruthless and played with his enemies, using spells that inflicted pain but not mortal wounds before finishing the prey off. Hermione felt this was no coincidence. The only problem she had was that such a high ranked Death Eater must have heavily underestimated her, and this seemed highly unlikely. No Death Eater would do such a thing unless… unless he knew his partner was nearby and could back him up if things spun out of control. But if so, why had his ally not finished her off while she was weak? Nothing seemed to piece together.

'Also, how could such a high ranked Death Eater botch a simple Avada Kedavra!'

"…I think this is the man… although his hair was darker when I saw him, and I swore his features were stronger. But when he grinned at me, it was the same snake-like features." Hermione said, pointing to the picture. She gave the two back the folder, open to the page with the man. They looked over it and shook their heads.

"Could not be Alair Ward. Unless you were extremely lucky, miss." Alec said with a sigh.

"Why?"

"Because this man is one of the most powerful wizards on the dark side. It makes little sense that a witch still in school, even if smart and gifted, could defeat him."

"I did not defeat him, though. I merely froze with a full body bind. I was lucky enough that his Avada Kedavra… missed. It was a narrow miss, because… because my ankle caught on another rock and I fell again. I managed to cast the spell in time, though."

"… I see." Alec said, digesting the new details. Hermione hoped her lying was not too obvious, after all the situation was… plausible. She had been somewhat vague with her retelling of the events, so adding new details was not too big of a stretch. It seemed like in order to keep the 'botched Avada Kedavra' a secret, she was coming up with new things to say and cutting out things that she did not need to say.

"Well… the hair color makes sense. His family has a history of Metamorphagus ancestors, and though his parents have no signs of the traits, it could be possible that he inherited some of the traits, which are known to be utterly random. There are many cases of partial Metamorphagi in the wizarding world. It would not be much of a stretch to say he can change hair color and facial shape upon whim. It could also explain why he is so hard to track down. A slight change to appearance can cause someone to doubt another person's identity."

Hermione nodded, and she eyed her cooled off soup. Seeing as she answered most questions, she began to eat the delicious and warm soup, relishing the fresh and soft vegetables on the tip of her tongue. It was not her favorite soup, but it did not mean she was not fond of it.

"Ok, well I think we are done with our questioning for now. You look like you need your rest, so you should return to the nurse's office, your face is rather pale still." Berenice said, smiling warmly as Hermione finished her small portion of soup off. "Of course, unless Miss McGonagall has something else to say to you."

"I think I do not have anything to Miss Granger that is urgent enough to impede on her healing time. Go on, these two will see you to the Nurse's office by Floo." She smiled warmly, and Hermione returned it.

She got up and left the tray behind, linking arms with the two older magic folk, and they stepped towards the fireplace.

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